


Венера

by Saniika



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: M/M, Multi, lots of camels and drinking, sheikh au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-25
Updated: 2017-07-29
Packaged: 2018-11-18 22:02:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11299728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saniika/pseuds/Saniika
Summary: On how Yuuri travels to Egypt, Phichit makes everything complicated and they all meet a Sheikh. Yuuri catches Sheikh's eye and suddenly the stay in Egypt is a lot longer than planned...“I made the camel drunk.”And that's how it all starts...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Qwertzu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Qwertzu/gifts).



> I wanted to write something positive, easy and indulgent. So I did.  
> All of the characters are adults, can drink and do other adult things you might think of.  
> This is a Sheikh AU - there is no real history involved, it's not present time, but not a fantasy world either.  
> I kept it simple, no need to think about it too much, at least I hope you won't.
> 
> This was beta-ed by fantastic [Olosta](http://archiveofourown.org/users/olosta). Thank you so much! Please check out their work.
> 
> Венера - Venus in Russian  
> da - yes in Russian
> 
> Enjoy!

Katsukis arrive with the caravan in the middle of the night. The journey from Japan is long and taxing but worth it. After all, nowhere in the world you can find the precious substance except for Egypt. It’s in the possession of the Sheikh, the leader of the Arabian Peninsula. Toshiya is sent there by the Japanese government to acquire it and thinks it’s the best opportunity to take the whole family with him and it will give a valuable experience to his children and a fun exchange of air to his wife.  
Yuuri is at first reluctant but cannot deny he is excited that he is going to see a foreign country, and the mental preparation for the travel is less stressful thanks to that. Mari is not excited at all; if she could she would stay back at their family house and mind the concoctions of her parents. Unfortunately for her, Minako, the fellow scientist, took over and is keeping a watchful eye on the experiments in progress.

They haven't expected the harsh shifts in the temperature. The life in Japan during the insufferably humid summers didn’t prepare them at all for the dry sandy oven. Yuuri can barely stay upright on the back of the camel as they make it through the rising and sinking dunes. The chatter from Phichit, his loyal friend from Thailand, helps only little. When he finally gets used to the heat the sun sinks behind the wavering horizon and the night catches them off guard just the same.

The heat of the day has nowhere to cling to, no plants in the sight, just endless sea of sand as far as your eye can see. Any warmth quickly evaporates and almost freezing cold invites itself into the smallest fold of their clothes. Now Yuuri understands why their guides insisted they take heavier dresses and blankets with them in their traveling trunk. At first it makes his father worry that the extra camel for luggage creates additional costs, an expenditure which his assignment employers won’t like. The Katsukis are good scientists, but they have yet to deliver a good potion, which would secure their position and housing.

That’s why Toshiya insisted on traveling to Egypt and to meet the Sheikh himself, the government allowing it only because he was in a personal letter exchange with the leader. There is almost nothing known about the tribe or their leader, but they seem to be interested in a rare blue mineral native to Japan. So one leads to another and here they are, few minutes from reaching the oasis where the Sheikh currently resides and Toshiya is about to have a first audience with him.

It’s almost like a small valley, Yuuri thinks as his eyes slide over the scenery. He wishes he could see it during the day because the tall palms and greenery are bathed in dark indigo colors and only the glimmer of moon is reflected on the surface of the small lake. That and a few torches on the perimeter of the camp, scattered in a strategic manner. It reminds him of the tale of One thousand and one nights; it looks almost as he had imagined reading the book. Too bad the audience scheduled for tonight isn't supposed to go beyond that and he won’t see it in full light.

There is a custom here that whenever you want to negotiate with someone about an important trade or a certain matter, you have to engage in a delicate dance that almost resembles courtship, Toshiya is quick to explain to his family as he clutches the camel’s back and strains in effort not to slide off.   
It’s not polite to show up and negotiate the deals right away. Instead one has to make an effort to keep things light with a friendly banter, build amicable relationship of trust and inclination. Just like you’d make a new close friend. One has to get to know one another before making serious decisions. Promises are valued and binding here; if you tied yourself to something and you’d die before taking care of it, your family was expected to take over.

Phichit jumps ahead and asks before Yuuri even opens his mouth - they are scheduled to stay here for this night only and leave early in the morning before the sun rises. How is Toshiya going to adjust to this custom?  
He smiles and Yuuri can see the familiar feverish glint in his eyes. His father loves exchanges with different cultures and goes to great lengths to keep the letters that come from every corner of the world. The contacts with the scientists keeps him informed about latest inventions and he indulges in discourse on various topics ranging from geography, mineralogy to philosophy. Therefore he brings them on his little secret. 

The Sheikh is not a native Egyptian; in fact his mother was of Russian origin and he even carries a foreign name. Victor. So even though he is a Sheikh, was born and has been living here his whole life, he is very open minded. Apparently they made arrangements with Toshiya ahead, Victor graciously granting him to have one audience. Of course their previous contact helped, but most importantly, the mineral is precious enough and the tribe wants it so badly; Victor was more than inclined to be accommodating.

Yuuri wonders with a hint of doubt. Victor doesn’t sound like a name of a person who would be servile towards others easily just like that. There is a strong ring to it and he knows from his father’s Latin books what the name’s origin means. Conqueror.  
One of the guides, who’s also a Russian, disconnects from the small group and rushes ahead yelling as they catch the first sight of the torches. A rider on a black horse is approaching them in a mad run and suddenly there are shots fired under the starlit sky. The Katsukis instinctively bundle closer and fright catches them once again unprepared.

Before they know it the guide meets the rider half way in a crushing embrace - turns out it is a woman. She basically leaps from the horse into his embrace, abandoning the musket and they laugh, kiss and turn around in joy.  
All four pairs of eyes rest on Toshiya in search for an explanation, as he is the only one who stays and sits upright in the saddle, whereas they lean close to their camel. He smiles gently and explains it is another custom. A tribe welcomes travelers after longer absence from home and celebrates the return with shots aimed into heavens. 

Of course. Yes, another custom.

“So, are they like, together?” Phichit is leaning closer to Yuuri, arms wrapped around the camel’s hump and his eyes dart from the affectionate pair on the ground to Yuuri and back.

“Of all things, this is the one detail you find worth asking about? Phichit, really?” Yuuri shakes his head, clearly seeing a devious sparkle in his friend’s eyes. No heat or cold in the world would kill the need for gossip in Phichit. It’s like some inner life force which keeps his friend going. But Yuuri doesn’t mind it much anymore, because it was exactly this force and curiosity that brought them together. If not for that Phichit would have never left Thailand, his home country and the royal court, never made it to Japan and would have most definitely never become friends with Yuuri.

“What, can’t a boy dream? The whole ride is so boring and I've heard they have real beauties around here. Can’t I be curious about their customs? I sure would like to be welcomed like that. Well, maybe minus that shooting but you get the gist. How about you?”

Phichit pouts and straightens between the humps. He flaps his shawl in an eccentric manner to the side as if to underline what he is saying. Yuuri just sighs, closes his eyes for a moment, considering his answer.

“No, I wouldn’t. All I want is to have a place to lay down and be warm again. I can’t believe I would wish for heat again after today, but it’s my only desire at the moment.”

Phichit rolls his eyes in exasperation and rests his head on the top of his hands like on a windowsill. There is a dreamy look in his eyes as he stares at the couple, who has hard time untangling from each other. They address each other with first names in a familiar manner, completely oblivious and unashamed of the audience. Georgi and Mila. So, more Russians, Yuuri makes a small mental note. It seems like the desert is littered with them, at this point he would not wonder if there was an ice-rink behind the nearby dune.

The pair manages to separate more or less and they walk back towards the caravan holding hands. Mila has an excited and welcoming look on her face as she takes in the foreigners and Georgi explains she is part of the guard unit who takes care of the security of the Sheikh.

Mila takes the word: “Welcome! We have been expecting you for several hours. The Sheikh is occupied at the moment and because we have another foreign guest. We will get you settled in and bring some refreshments, da? You must be tired! Come, come!” She continues on merrily and leans into her partner. Georgi presses a kiss to her temple and tugs at the reigns of Yuuri’s camel and it follows obediently, letting out a loud groan. 

“Hello! I am Phichit and I am starving!” His friend throws his hands towards the sky. This gesture is so spontaneous that everyone starts to laughing and realize how tired they all are. Phichit’s company makes anything less heavy and Yuuri cannot help but smile. The mood is relaxed and it doesn’t feel at all for a moment like they are all strangers in an unfamiliar territory. He is glad he came here.

The camels set ahead with the troupe towards the tents and they enter the camp.

They have arrived.

Yuuri and Phichit are in a turquoise tent. At least that’s what Mila is calling it. She quickly explains they will be using it for the night although it usually serves as sleeping quarters for their female staff. They are given fresh tunics smelling of soap, which are basically large and long shirts reaching the floor. And no shoes. Apparently they won’t need those because the ground is covered by colorful carpets.

After she departs a quiet woman comes inside dressed in a chador and inquires what they would like as refreshments. Phichit asks for figs and Yuuri just water, his stomach is hurting and he feels dizzy from the long ride on the camel’s back.

A little later, as Phichit savors the sweet fruit in indulgent manner, they are surprised once again. Georgi joins them and brings a bottle they are not familiar with. His mood is merry, he tells them about how he is going to get married to Mila. The couple had waited for his return from the escorting assignment. So now it finally makes sense to Yuuri why the pair was so excited.

Phichit, as adventurous he is, grabs the bottle without any hesitation and takes a generous swig. Georgi tries to warn him, but it’s too late, the Thai gulps and chokes bent to half at his waist. Yuuri is about to offer him a cup of water but Phichit stares in astonishment and declares like he doesn’t believe what he is going to say.

“I like it! What is this?”

Georgi blinks but is quick to push out his chest with pride and answers all too eagerly. He is obviously satisfied with Phichit’s instant liking of the drink.

“Vodka, the best drink in the world. It’s Russian and my grandfather made it himself.” Georgi talks and gesticulates with his hands in the air wildly. He sits down on a wooden chair and takes a couple of intricate metal chalices from the plate on the table. He nods a little and sends a questioning gaze towards Phichit and, holding the bottle close to the brim of the chalice, ready to pour at his command.

“It is as you say my good friend. Let’s praise the skills of your grandfather ; be so kind and pour me some more. Let me have it! And don’t spare me! Yuuri, do you want some too?”

Yuuri has a bad feeling about this, so he just shakes his head and says a silent “I’m good” in return. He sits down on the comfortable bed and watches the two men chatter, their talk disturbed by Phichit's occasional coughing, whose throat burns and eyes water. He shakes his head again but says nothing. He doesn’t know how long Georgi stays or the bottle lasts because his eyes close after a few minutes and he is oblivious of anything happening around him. Sleep wraps him in its merciful embrace.

It’s still deep in the night when he feels the a jab right under his shoulder blade as something pokes in his flesh.

“Yuuri.” A loud whisper carries itself in the tent. Another jab almost pierces a hole in between his ribs. “Yuuuuri.”

Yuuri barely manages to evade another assault and twists his body so he can see the person who robs him of his sleep.

“Phichit?” He whispers as well, the webs of slumber still lingering in the back of his mind.

“Yuuuuri. Wake up!” Well sure enough it is Phichit’s form towering over his bed and Yuuri wonders why they even bother whispering in the first place, because his friend is making a really bad attempt at it.

“Phichit, I am awake! What’s wrong?”

“Yuu-..oh, you are! Haha, that’s good. Because it needs help.” Giddy laughter rings from Phichit’s mouth and Yuuri is now completely awake. Instinct tells him to be receptive, the younger man's strange behavior is not a good sign.

“What? What needs help? Phichit you’re not making any sense. Tell me this instant what’s going on.” He doesn’t want to but frustration seeps into his speech, the anxiety giving it a sharper edge. Yuuri doesn’t like this at all. He sits up showing the sheets aside and rests his hand on Phichit’s shoulder as the other sits down on the bed.

“Oh. The camel! It needs your help. Yes.” His friend chuckles a little and tries hard to hold back his laughter some more. Even in the dark Yuuri can see the glowing spark in Phichit’s eyes. As if he had fever. The fruity scent hits his nose and he knows Phichit is not having a fever. He is drunk. Very drunk. Oh no.

“Phichit. What did you do?” He is sure that he is not going to like discovering what this is all about. He is not sure if he is even ready to face it. They are on an unfamiliar territory, in an alien country, and are guests. This mission is very important to his father and they already stretched their chances with getting a special benevolent treatment for the audience. They would be stuck here for a month at least if they were forced to follow the usual order of the usual protocol. Phichit is a lot to handle when he is sober and Yuuri feels the familiar sensation of dread creeping up his spine, the tingling of his ears like spider legs walking over them.

“Tsk! Yuuuuuuri. I didn’t do anything. Ah, the camel. It looked so nice and fluffy. I just wanted to pet it, but it looked so sad? Yeah. It was thirsty so I gave it some of Georgi's drink. He is so nice, did you know his hair is also very fluffy? Like Koala hair!”

Yuuri grabs Phichit’s shoulders with both hands and then a loud groan is heard from outside of the tent. The camel’s cry. It sounds like a tormented cow which ate bad cheese. Oh no.

Phichit stills in his hold and looks a little remorseful, but doesn’t avoid Yuuri’s pinning stare. He gulps and speaks with clear voice.

“I made the camel drunk.”

Oh no. No no no no….

“Phichit, I am going to murder you.” Yuuri hangs his head down in defeat and his mind is already racing, while his ears burn more with each distressed cry of the camel. They need to act fast.

Yuuri jumps from the bed and looks around the tent, eyes focusing with effort in the darkness on the unfamiliar shapes. Lots of pillows, veils hanging from the top of the tent, small furniture, and there in the corner is a trunk. He remembers Mila telling them these were women's quarters, so he runs to it with growing hope. Yes! His hands dive inside it, feeling the familiar soft fabric of the veils. Delicate embroidery adorning it on the chest area, the decorative coins cooling his fingertips and as he feels them in the dark. He tugs out a few pieces by blind choice and tosses some on Phichit, who untangles from them with frustration. He doesn’t manage to protest as Yuuri cuts him off in whisper.

“Put them on, quick! We don’t have much time. The whole camp will wake up if we don’t hurry.”

Phichit looks in astonishment at Yuuri who drops his tunic and pulls on the flowy pants and top. As he puts on the veil and pins a smaller one over his face, the Thai starts to react hesitantly, furrowing his brows in concentration. Yuuri would normally have pity on him, because focusing is harder for drunk people, but he is still mad so he deliberately decides to ignore that.

“Yuuri. You look very pretty with your belly naked like that. But why do you want us to dress like women? Do you want to dance for the camel? And isn’t there any red dress? I don’t like violet, it doesn’t go well with my eyes.”

“Phichit, shut up. We’re dressing up, it’s a disguise.”

“Disguise? Why-…”

Yuuri closes the trunk with a resolute thump and turns to Phichit locking him in place with a poignant stare. His fingers slide in the air in front of his lips cutting his friend off.

“Shh! We’re going to walk the camel so it sobers up. If someone sees and recognized us, they will think we are stealing it. But if they see two women from their tribe, they won't raise alarm.” He explains quickly with patience while he helps Phichit to dress in the process. His friend is sluggish and can barely pull off the tunic without his aid.

“Ok. Yuuri?” His voice comes muffled from under the fabric and Yuuri tugs the violet dress over his head.

“Hm?”

“You look really pretty in indigo.”

To Yuuri’s surprise Phichit manages to lead them to the camels and he has to support him only once when he stumbles, when his feet get catch in the untangled veil. Once near the hoard Phichit wobbles towards the camel which stands in the middle. Yuuri corrects himself, it’s trying to stand. It groans loudly, its cries carrying in the night air. Yuuri looks around in fright, expecting guards to come around the corner and seize them any minute.  
“Phichit!” He whispers while looking around his shoulder towards the tents.

“Camel-chan!!! Did you miss me? Did you miss me? There, there!” Phichit wraps his arms around the neck of the camel and cuddles with it as if it were an overgrown hamster. He coos to the animal and forgets to whisper immediately. Yuuri cringes, rushes to them and grabs the reigns so he can untie the rope from the wooden beam, to which the camels are tied to. It’s harder than he anticipated because they stand in the shade of palms and it’s difficult to see well without glasses in darkness. Brief flashes of moonlight dance around them through the palm leaves and together with the stars above it all would appear very serene under normal circumstances. Unfortunately Yuuri doesn’t have the time to enjoy the scenery because both Phichit and the camel are growing louder and sway dangerously on their legs.

Phichit covers his mouth with one palm and stares at Yuuri in sudden distress.

“Yuuri. I think I’m going to puke.”

There! The rope finally gives in and releases its complicated knot. Yuuri pulls at the reins with one hand and rests the other on Phichit’s lower back.

“No, you won’t. You’re going to be fine. Now I need you to climb on the camel and I’ll lead us from the camp, ok? Can you do that for me?”

He caresses his friend’s shoulder blades, speaking kindly. Once he receives his nod, he helps Phichit to get into the saddle. The camel, as Yuuri notices, has much nicer reins and gear than the rest of the herd. Of course Phichit chose a special camel, it’s their leader. With the first obstacle behind them Yuuri allows himself to sigh in relief and he feels hope is on the horizon. They might make it after all. The moment the thought leaves his mind the herd starts to cry in unison as their leader calls into the night louder than before.

“Yeaaah! Woohooo!” Phichit, forgetting he felt sick seconds ago, decides to join the ruckus. Yuuri startles and stops trying to calm down the camel and has difficulty to hold the reins firmly in his grip. The noise is too much and he’s sure that now someone is definitely going to notice their whereabouts.

And sure enough, not even a second passes and before he hears yelling behind his back. He ducks in instinct and turns slowly to see his incoming doom. The distraction makes the reins slip out of his hands and the camel decides to take this as a queue to break out into a mad run, Phichit on its back and the herd following it. Its pure chaos and Yuuri can only stand in the middle and try to avoid getting hurt by the rushing camels. From the corner of his eye he notices a person walking towards them. His father is peeking from the nearby tent, which can only mean one thing. They disturbed the audience and judging from the attire of the approaching person Yuuri knows who it is.

The Sheikh himself.

The man is closing on him like a storm. Everything is moving, sound a whirlwind of animal cries, thuds and distant yelling in a foreign language. Yet nothing could shake of the Yuuri’s concentration of the inevitable encounter. With each step the sheikh takes, Yuuri notices a new detail about him, a new piece of information seeps into his mind like water into the sand. Few meters away from him the man jolts and his pace slows down until he simply stops, locking gaze with Yuuri. The other can’t move or do anything else than stare back. 

The moonlight spills over the camp as the clouds move on and the two are bathed in the glow white like milk. For Yuuri it feels similar as when he opens a new precious book. He focuses with anticipation, excitement grows inside him as his fingers slide over the black leather binding and once he opens the cover, unlimited possibilities are exposed to his mind with the brightness of white paper. 

All he needs to do is look and take it in. In fact, it was never easier. If the man was described in a book, it would sound like a fairy tale.

He is tall, taller than Yuuri. Seemingly never-ending white tunic and cloak wrap around his body. There is a faint glimmer in the sash he wears on his waist, maybe it is silver thread. A brief flash of gleam moves near it, reflecting moonshine on the decorative dagger. Perhaps it’s gold or maybe silver, the cold moonlight making it hard to tell. No, it is silver, Yuuri knows somehow the moment his eyes land on the stranger’s face. Beautifully cut shapes, creamy skin and gentle features convince at the first sight. He looks like an angel who descended to Maria in Annunciation. Just like in the collection of christian paintings his father had showed him. Yuuri is stunned and cannot move, not even when the Sheikh gestures behind his back, signaling to his guards to stay back. 

They never break eye contact and Yuuri is like spellbound. Even in the low light Victor’s eyes shine like water in the sea on a warm summer day. Mesmerizing turquoise color with deep ultramarine shadows. He sees anger at first, then wonder and fascination in the end.

What does the sheikh see to be so caught up in trance? Yuuri is about to look around so he can find the source of his interest, but a last errant camel rushes by between them, throwing Yuuri off balance and the sheikh is sent to the ground in the cloud of sand, coughing.

It’s pure instinct when Yuuri moves towards the man on the ground. His arms grab the other’s shoulder and hand, pulling at him firmly. His palm wraps around the sheikh’s fingers with such frightening ease it’s almost unbelievable. But it is all real, because they stand there, holding hands and Yuuri can hear the man’s shallow breathing, see his pupils dilate and his lips part slightly. And lord, he is not looking anywhere else but straight down to Yuuri’s face.

The strangest thing, but Yuuri is neither afraid nor concerned. He lets the man squeeze his hand and feels him slide his other hand on Yuuri’s elbow. His eyelids lower, hiding the piercing eyes under silver eyelashes and Yuuri can almost taste the words coming from his mouth, wishing he could take them all in with his own lips.

“Венера.” A whisper like a caress is released from the stranger’s throat with a silent sigh.

Yuuri’s ears strain in effort but he can’t understand what it means. He feels his face flushing and is thankful for the veil covering everything but his eyes. Nothing saves him from the heat spilling up his spine, over his neck and pouring into his heart. It swells so quickly, it almost aches with pain.

Maybe the man can see it, as unbelievable as it sounds to Yuuri’s mind, because his face is crossed with concern and his hand is reaching towards Yuuri’s cheek. The moonlight flashes against in the rings on his fingers and it’s like a soundless warning before the magic of the moment is broken.

Then they are torn apart, the people chasing the camels rushing between them and all the closeness, the instant connection is gone. Yuuri’s mind is thrown back into reality and dread claws at his back. He looks quickly around, taking in the situation. It all happened so fast he doesn’t remember what exactly occurred after that. He only knows he manages to catch the leader camel as it is confusedly running in circles and pulls Phichit into safety. The whole camp is in a warlike state, the animals all over the place and the guards trying to catch them all. Therefore Yuuri and Phichit manage to slip away and find their way back to the safety of their tent unnoticed. Yuuri quickly rips the clothes off their bodies, returns them to the trunk and pulls the tunics not too gently over their heads. Phichit has no time to protest as he is pulled to Yuuri’s bed under the sheets and is grasped in his friend’s embrace holding his breath.

Sure enough, Mila rushes into the tent without announcing herself, yells and asks about their safety. Yuuri pretends to be woken up and rubs his eyes with fake grogginess. He answers her obediently and she mentions only that there were intruders in the camp and says she needs to go back, quick apology sent their way over her shoulder.

Yuuri releases all the air from his lungs and feels like a heavy stone fell off his back. His throat is still clenching with anxiety, but it’s a moment of peace he allows himself to take. He takes a few breaths, trying not to let the dread wash over him like a tsunami and counts quietly in his mind to keep himself calm.

A silent whisper echoes behind his back from under the covers, so he looks at Phichit’s face with a scowl. He has every right to be angry, but stops in his tracks the moment he sees huge eyes staring back at him. Phichit looks like he’s about to cry and says meekly.

“Yuuri, can I puke now?”

Yuuri doesn’t have the time to answer or do anything at all, because Phichit throws himself right into Yuuri’s instinctive embrace and vomits all over his tunic. At that point Yuuri decides to just hold his friend and pet him comfortingly as he heaves. All things considered, this night was a big win. Disguise, camel chase and a hot desert royal. What does the vomit and not enough sleep matter, when all this excitement flushes his body? Well maybe it is all the adrenaline speaking, but Yuuri finds he doesn’t regret any of that at all. Phichit owes him big time and Yuuri is sure going to make him pay for it. For now he finds some satisfaction looking at him like this, because he knows Phichit already regrets his actions enough as it is.

So once Phichit more or less finishes vomiting and starts complaining in dramatic agony, Yuuri knows his queue and walks out of the tent and to find a guard who calls a servant immediately. The woman gives him fresh clothing and gives him water and towels once he briefly explains that his friend is sick.

The guards don’t ask anything; clearly every person in the camp is up and occupied, trying to asses all the damage and turn chaos into order again. As Yuuri is about to pass the entrance to their tent he sees the white robes in the distance. The Sheikh is talking to a group of people and he exchanges a few words with his father, sending him back to his tent in a kind manner.

Yuuri hesitates a little and lets his gaze scan the tall man’s silhouette once more now that he has the time and the stranger’s eyes are not hypnotizing him like a magical cobra. Even from afar Yuuri can see the grace with which the man moves, elegant, muted and not brash. There is not a hint of anger shown in his actions or the clear voice directed at his people. He doesn’t hear much from the distance and can't understand anything at all due to the foreign language, but he can tell it from the tone of his voice and see in the reactions of the people the Sheikh speaks with. This man has their respect, undivided attention and trust. 

Yuri confirms his suspicion: It’s clear that Victor wants the substance very much, as he is very hospitable and had even granted them an exceptionally quick audition, but it doesn’t mean he is servile. On the contrary, he is a proud and successful man, confident in his deserved achievements. A victor.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On how Phichit discovers a new deity, the sheikh makes a request and Mari enjoys the middle eastern food a lot. We'll finally know who's camel it is, even though you didn't ask for it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All of the characters are adults, can drink and do other adult things you might think of.  
> This is a Sheikh AU - there is no real history involved, it's not present time, but not a fantasy world either.  
> I kept it simple, no need to think about it too much, at least I hope you won't.
> 
> This was beta-ed by fantastic [Olosta](http://archiveofourown.org/users/olosta). Thank you so much! Please check out their work.
> 
> chut thai - thai traditional dress  
> yukata - summer kimono  
> Touareg - mint tea  
> seiza - traditional formal way of sitting in Japan  
> baklava - a rich, sweet dessert pastry made of layers of filo filled with chopped nuts and sweetened and held together with syrup or honey  
> ghutrah - traditional Middle Eastern headdress fashioned from a square scarf, usually made of cotton  
> dogeza - an element of Japanese etiquette 
> 
> I honestly didn't expect the response I got. I hope you won't be disappointed? I tried to keep in mind why I started to write this. Keep it simple, keep it happy.  
> There are new tags ;)
> 
> Enjoy!

Yuuri wonders how he was he able to fall asleep after the dramatic night, but again he doesn’t have the luxury to ponder about anything. It would be easier trying to keep the sand trickling from his palm. Futile. Yuuri knows it, because once as a child he broke an hourglass purposely, when he wanted to test it – to hold the time. His sister laughed when she came to collect him for lunch and he showed her his small palm clutching the colorful sand and said he still had the time.

So when Toshiya comes to the turquoise tent early at dawn, Yuuri accepts further lack of sleep with obedient calmness. Phichit is a whole different story. His face is tinted with a sickly olive green color and despite the low temperature of the morning his forehead and upper lip is beaded with sweat. While Yuuri slept like the dead with the conscience of innocence, Phichit had been writhing in the sheets the whole night and had been running back and forth to the bathroom stall because of diarrhea.

“Ugh, I’ll never eat figs again.” The phrase is almost like his personal mantra and Yuuri wonders if there is a special fig-god who can hear his friend’s prayer. If there is one, Phichit is willing to trade his first born just to ease a bit of his pain. At least that’s what he’s saying every five seconds.

“I told you to go easy on them, they are natural laxatives.” Yuuri can’t help pointing out the helpful information. It’s too tempting to get back at Phichit for all his past teasing.  
However, the smile doesn’t stay long on their faces, because Toshiya brings news with a tense expression. The Sheikh has invited them to a small feast, there is no room for arguments. He insists.

“Father, I need to speak with you…” Yuuri advances to him, gathering his courage. Toshiya takes off his glasses and cleans them, absentmindedly looking at the wooden beam which supports the tent, and interrupts his son without looking at him. “Later, Yuuri. Yesterday ruined our schedule and I have the feeling the Sheikh won't be so accommodating anymore. Hurry up, we have to get ready. This time all of us have to be there, his Highness invited the whole family. I’m going to get Mari, your mother is waiting just outside.” He smiles weakly and is on his way.

Phichit, sitting on the small wooden chair, leans on the table and groans in pain. “Do we really have to go? Can’t we stay and like, be close to the bathroom or something? You can be my nurse?”

Oh, Yuuri wishes for nothing more than that at the moment. “You heard him. Unavoidable. But look at it this way. At least you won’t be riding a camel in your state all the way back to Cairo.” Yuuri finds it ironic that he’s the one who makes Phichit see the positive side of things for once. Ironic.

“Ugh, don’t speak of camels. My bowels are trying not to move.”

Yuuri’s mother calls them, urging them on to hurry with a gentle voice. Phichit gets dressed in chut thai with Yuuri’s help. The other puts on his summer yukata. They leave their belongings on the bed, not knowing how their day will look like once the morning meeting ends.

As they enter the Sheikh’s tent they are greeted by his rushed voice. Yuuri doesn’t understand the language, as Victor is speaking Russian. Toshiya is the only one who understands so he quickly motions his family to sit down on the cushion covered floor.

Yuuri can tell only that there is small talk between the two man going on and that is sounds a little strained. His father’s expression is guarded and his posture is a little rigid, but the Sheikh is relaxed, offering his guests the breakfast feast with a lavish gesture. Yuuri can hardly look at all the food, the selection is vast and last time he’d seen something similar was at a wedding in Japan. If this is a simple breakfast, Yuuri wonders what the other meals of the day look like. And what about important occasions? He looks at Phichit who sits beside him and sees he is also bewildered, but for different reasons than Yuuri. If it’s possible at all, Phichit turns even greener and shivers profusely.

In the end Phichit nibbles on pita triangles and nothing else. Yuuri tries to do the impossible thing, to become invisible in front of the Sheikh. The sense of anonymity lasts for about ten minutes while his father and Sheikh exchange the pleasantries. Yuuri startles when he hears his name and realizes Toshiya is introducing him to the royal. He is so frightened he immediately bows down to the ground and hopes he won’t be recognized. There is some awkward silence and then Toshiya moves on to introduce his daughter. Yuuri gathers some courage and peeks a bit at the foreigner in front of them.

The sheikh is now looking at Mari with a great interest, suddenly tense, and can’t seem to keep his eyes off her. He whispers one word which no one can hear and then quickly returns his attention to Toshiya. There is a shift in his demeanor and while he is still polite, the conversation is less enthusiastic. For a while he seems to be lost in thoughts, playing with a bunch of grapes. Yuuri can’t help but stare, drawn like a moth to the man’s image and he tries to take in every detail he can. In the cool shade of the tent a lot more is to be seen than in the night before.

Victor looks a lot more human, but is still ethereally beautiful. How does he keep his skin so pale under the harsh sun is a mystery to Yuuri. As the man’s long and slender fingers hold the fruit, Yuuri’s eyes are drawn to his lips and Yuuri has to wet his in return, feeling parched and thirsty. It’s surely the rising heat of the approaching day. Then the ringed fingers stop and Yuuri finds the turquoise eyes lock onto him with interest. He quickly averts his gaze and takes a sip from the Touareg tea with lowered eyelids. Don’t look up, don’t look up.

He prays the sheikh will not recognize him. The thoughts rush to Yuuri’s mind in panic, he’s consciously trying to appear relaxed and loosen his rigid limbs. They had met during the night, Yuuri’s eyes – the only visible thing back then – are now hidden behind big glasses with a thick frame. There is a very slight chance that Victor identifies him, Yuuri knows that, but his face is burning with embarrassment under the watchful stare of the man. From the corner of his eyes, Yuuri can see Victor observes him a while longer, his fingers toying with the grapes, but as quickly as it starts it also stops. The tense electric sensation stays; Yuuri can’t place it, although he has the impression the Sheikh is irritated?

Victor takes a chalice and his loud voice raises everyone present to attention instinctively. What he says doesn’t make his father happy; Yuuri watches as Toshiya nods and the sheikh looks very pleased. The rest of the breakfast passes in idle chatter. The sheikh is asking and receives short replies, but he doesn’t seem to lose resolve. His father translates, it's meaningless small talk. Did they enjoy the travel and the sights? Was the journey exhausting? Is it very much different from their home country? Did his guides treat them all well on the way to the camp? It wouldn’t be strange, but the questions are mostly directed to Mari, who is startled at first and growing visibly uncomfortable with the prolonged attention. Hiroko is resting her hand on her husband’s thigh and he clutches it in return while maintaining the role of a translator.

A guard enters the room and Victor exchanges few words with him in Arabic language; not even Toshiya knows what is being said now, but shortly after the sheikh stands up, he gives them a slight bow and excuses himself in Russian. Once he’s gone Toshiya turns back from the seiza to the rest of his family and rubs his chin in contemplation. 

Mari relaxes, stuffs her mouth with baklava and raises her eyebrow in question. When no answer comes, she licks her fingers from the honey and remaining crumbs with audible smacks. She loves good food and indulges in delicacies whenever she can. It’s one of her two impressive abilities, the other being the ability to sleep literally anywhere.

Toshiya looks bewildered, cupping Hiroko’s cheek, perhaps seeking the strength. Yuuri feels warmth in his chest when he observes them, because this sight always convinces him that his parents will make it through anything in the world. With the ability to share a single look, they draw strength from one another. Toshiya holds her face when she leans into his palm, and he speaks looking at her calm expression.

“We have been invited to stay for an undefined time as guests of the Sheikh. He regrets that yesterday’s night disrupted the audience and want’s to rectify it, giving the matter the attention it deserves.”

The more he says the more his brows furrow. Yuuri is growing more nervous by each sentence and shifts his glasses up his nose. Hiroko looks worriedly on his husband and everyone knows there is more. Toshiya lets go and turns towards his daughter with a sober look.

“The sheikh formally requested to court you, Mari.”

Mari spits out the tea. Phichit whistles, unwinding from his curled up pose. Hiroko covers her lips with a palm and says a silent “Oh.” Yuuri topples over, unable to hold his position. His legs tingle from sitting too long in seiza and that’s the only thing which keeps him from concentrating on the strange confusing emotions after hearing the big news.

The Katsukis depart from the sheikh’s tent and leave for their temporary lodgings. The parents agree on talking over the courting matter again on the next possible meeting. For now they will not take it all too seriously. Perhaps it’s just a misunderstanding and there will be an explanation. Victor saw Mari for the first time during breakfast, so there couldn’t be talk about an instant infatuation. Surely it wasn’t a tactic to get a better deal out of the substance trade either. 

Yuuri hurries back to their tent dragging Phichit by the hand behind him. His friend is slow, complains every now and then, but follows him obediently. It’s obvious to Phichit the bombshell dropped during breakfast excited Yuuri way too much. They nod slightly to Mila as they pass her by. She is discussing something with a couple of guards, but sends them a small smile with a nod. She notices their joined hands and rush they are in and doesn’t stop them for a chat.

“Ok, what is troubling you?” Phichit says meekly as he sits down on the bed, giving his whole attention to Yuuri who is clearly panicking. Yuuri could work himself up in a matter of minutes. However he is a master of disguise, masking the symptoms so well it takes a keen eye to notice he’s in distress. He doesn’t pace, nor do his hands shake, but Phichit knows his friend enough to notice the paleness in his face, the clenching fists and nervous fingers scratching his nail bedding. Yuuri is troubled. Phichit really wishes the fig god would listen to his prayers and grant him relief just so he could better concentrate on Yuuri.

“What? Nothing. Nothing, everything is fine.” Yuuri gingerly pours himself a cup of water and chugs down the whole thing as if to prove the point. A tug at the sleeve of his yukata makes him turn to Phichit and face him. Phichit, still holding the corner of the fabric, has an insistent look on his face. He won’t budge.

“Yuuri.” He doesn’t have to say more. It’s the tone and the poignant stare that always breaks down the resistance in Yuuri and he can’t help but succumb to the offer of his friend. Phichit never forces him, he gently insists. Yuuri swallows and slumps down on the chair.

“Phichit, what just happened?”

The Thai overcomes a small tremor and holds his belly for a moment, but then tries to engage in the conversation. Damn diarrhea.

“I think it’s just what it is. Let’s break it down simply, ok? Victor wants to do more talking with your dad about that mineral thing. That’s what we were invited here for.

“Yesterday night… do you think he…well, does he know it’s been us?” Yuuri taps his knee nervously.

“If he knows he didn’t say anything for the moment. Let’s wait and see what happens? I think if it was serious, we’d be sleeping tied to a palm tree instead of this comfy tent. And, Yuuri, it was just a camel. Little bit drunk, so it’s not a big deal.” Ok, he tries as much as he can while trying to ignore the cramps.

“Little bit?! It could barely stand! How much vodka did you give to that poor animal? Oh my god Phichit, the reins and the gear. It’s surely a very important camel, what if it was some gift for Victor or a sacred animal in this tribe… and you made it drunk! Oh god, oh god!! The whole herd was nuts and the guards and…”

Phichit winces at the combination of abdominal pain and guilt. He tries hard to think about an appropriate answer.

Yuuri bites his lips and joins his hands in a tight grip, resting his elbows on his knees. The wheels inside his head are turning at a maddening speed as he tries to focus and establish some kind of order in the whirlwind of confusion. 

“Why wouldn’t he say anything? Maybe he wants to have evidence so he can frame us? Oh, no…!” 

He looks at Phichit and stops, suddenly frozen in his tracks. His friend reaches out again and grabs Yuuri's hands with one hand, urging him on. 

“What?” Phichit is almost afraid to ask. 

“Phichit. He thinks Mari tried to steal the camel!” Yuuri is ready to bolt out of the chair and Phichit realizes he has to try really hard to calm him down, so that he doesn’t fall into a full panic attack. Yuuri could easily storm to the Sheikh and confess voluntarily, believing his sister is in danger. Phichit licks his lips nervously and squeezes Yuuri’s hands lightly to get back his attention.

“That’s a possibility. But I don’t think he would do anything to harm her, he asked to court her after all. It’s going to be ok, I am sure it will be resolved soon. Your fath-…” He gets cut off almost immediately. 

“Phichit, I screwed up. It’s all my fault, he wasn’t supposed to see me. And I stood there and, and… he was so… and then I grabbed him and oh god! He stared right at me! My dad is going to fail the assignment and Mari is going to be married and… what have I done?!” 

Yuuri’s eyes dart from one corner to the other, like he’s searching for a calm place to cling to and hold onto. His thoughts are getting the better of him, so Phichit scoots a little closer and puts a hand on the back of Yuuri’s neck. They rest against each other, foreheads touching and Phichit makes sure to speak in a very steady voice.

“Yuuri, look at me. Breathe. One, two, three. Exhale. One, two, three. Inhale. Just like that, slowly, ok? I’ve got you.” Phichit murmurs quietly and strokes the fine hair on Yuuri’s neck gently. Yuuri’s breathing is slowing down and his eyelids are closed trying to focus on the task. Few minutes pass lazily and they keep sharing the intimate closeness. They are lulled enough not to be bothered by Georgi announcing himself. It’s Phichit who invites him inside.

Georgi hesitates as he sees them so close, but Phichit asks him what he needs even though he’s still attached to Yuuri in a protective embrace. Georgi apologizes and tells them that they can walk around the camp for one or two hours more, but then they should stay in shadows, because the sun will be too harsh. Later on during lunchtime they will be served food, so they can relax and prepare for when that time comes. All the time Georgi speaks he can’t help but notice how tactile the two men are and he looks a little nervous.  
Phichit smiles, thanks Georgi for the information, quickly explains Yuuri is not feeling very well and that they should be ready for lunchtime to join the company. He asks Georgi if they can borrow an hourglass, so they can tell the time they have to be there. The Russian deflates a little at the explanation and offers to fetch them when the time to attend comes. When he leaves, the two decide to go outside for a walk.

They discover that the camp is not as big as they thought at first. The torches in the night were forming a wider circle around the perimeter, misleading the casual observer. The tents are all of the same color on the outside, ultramarine blue. Yuuri remembers his father said the locals believe the color fends of flies and insects. The sheikh’s tent is larger, but apart from the decorative, silver trimmed rods propping the entrance nothing makes it look fancier than the rest. Since this is the oasis, there are many palm trees stretching tall towards the light blue sky. Yuuri almost feels like he is close to the sea. It’s like walking in a conjured realm; the sandy dunes swimming on the horizon give their presence a strange sensation of isolation. At one side of the camp is a larger lake, a small part of it hidden in a corner. A well is nearby, which is guarded by men at all times, and of course there is a herd of the camels, complete and tied securely to the beams in the shade of the palms.

They take in the sights, reach the furthest end of the lake and finish their quiet conversation. Phichit stops suddenly and stares at Yuuri with eyes large like copper plates they ate from at breakfast. 

“Yuuri, I’ve got to go. Can you manage?” He crosses his legs and stands in an awkward posture. Sweat beads once again on his upper lip.

“What? Are you ok?” Yuuri is about to stand up from the ground in alarm, but Phichit presses an invisible wall with his palms.

“Ah, the fig god is mocking me. I didn’t pray enough to appease his wrath. Got to go, sorry. I’ll be back before you know it, ok?” The last sentence is heard meters away as Phichit rushes back quickly to the group of tents.

Yuuri is alone. For the first time since they had left Japan there is no one in his presence. There is always the a tension in the presence of others as he has to work hard on how to interact with them, take in the small cues, react appropriately. After the panic attack he finds he can relax and be himself again without holding up instinctive barriers. He lets his shoulders sink and rakes the sand with his fingers. 

He thinks of the blue eyes. He can't shake them off his mind, but he doesn't try to resist. His mind wanders to how beautiful the sheikh looked in the morning. A long white tunic covered his whole body, broad sash held it in place on his waist. Now he could see the sash was of pale blue color and silver thread woven in a striped pattern. The same dagger was stuck behind it. A cloak covered his shoulders and it wasn't white like he thought before. In the daylight it was of creamy peach color. Yuuri regrets a little he didn't see his hair as it was covered by ghutrah, a piece of white cloth held in place by black ringlets. 

Both of the time the man laid eyes upon him, Yuuri felt struck and pinned to the place. Even now when he remembers it, his skin tingles and he feels vulnerable inside. Such a strange feeling woken by a stranger. It doesn't make sense, but Yuuri admits to himself with a little fright that he was afraid to be exposed and eager at the same time. What would the sheikh do? What would he think discovering it was Yuuri? Would he approach him? And perhaps take his hand and look at him with the same reverence as he did under the moonlight? What a foolish wish! The desert is robbing him of his mind.

A sudden heat and energy drive him from the ground towards the water. He undresses the yukata, leaving on only a loincloth and walks into the lake. The water is not cool nor warm, a pleasant medium, and he notes it’s a good time to take a swim. Maybe he can come here often while they are here and it can become a sort of routine. The water enveloping his limbs in a comforting embrace takes the troublesome thoughts and Yuuri relaxes completely taking first strokes. He isn't aware of anyone in the vicinity and doesn't notice a lone man lingering behind the palms.

It doesn't take long; just as his friend promised, Phichit is rushing back from the camp. He is running and yelling at the same time, which makes him trip repeatedly. 

“Yuuri! Yuuri!!”

Yuuri swims back to the shore and walks out to meet Phichit. His friend stops a few meters away and stares towards the palms with concentration. When Yuuri looks into the same direction, he sees nothing, so he turns back to Phichit with a question in his face. 

“Yuuri-...” Phichit tries to catch his breath for a moment, the urgency ringing alarm bells in Yuuri's mind as he watches him gasp for air bracing his upper body on his knees.

“Yes?” Yuuri slips on his yukata, swipes his wet hair from his face and is about to put on his glasses. Phichit looks up and Yuuri is sure he definitely won't like what his friend is going to tell him. It doesn't help that he looks to both sides in suspicion and talks in whispers.

“Yuuri, it's bad. It's really bad.” Phichit always tries to play things down, so when he underlines the severity of the situation, than it is more than bad. It's a catastrophe. Yuuri closes his eyes for a moment and takes a deep breath. There are no fig gods and you should never accept drinks from a Russian. And definitely don't go out cross-dressed in the night in a desert. Too bad, he learns this too late.

“Tell me everything.”

The Thai pulls him aside, checking the surroundings again for good measure and begins explaining.

“I was returning from our tent and wanted to see how the camel is doing. Ah, don't look at me that way! I like the camel, ok? And I was kind of worried if it has a hangover... anyway. Yes. There was a man examining the camels and we spoke a little. He's the other guest Mila mentioned yesterday. An astronomer, Christophe Giacometti. He's a friend of the sheikh. I was asking what he's doing and he explained to me that he's doing a check up on the animals. He's interested in medicine too, isn't it amazing? Wow, I mean, that's pretty multifaceted – an astronomer and a physician! And he was kinda hot too... If you only saw his eyelashes, they were long like a cow's!”

Yuuri scowls. Phichit had the worst way of dealing with stress. Blabbing and gossiping, very poorly combined with a short attention span. “Phichit!” He scolds him, loosing the patience.

“Well, they were! I mean, ah, never-mind! Where was I?” Phichit scratches his neck in concentration and wrinkles his face in effort. Once he remembers, his eyes fly open and lock on Yuuri with distress. He grabs Yuuri's shoulders in a firm grasp and again lowers his voice. 

“The camel is ok, but they are checking all of the animals in worry that someone tried to poison them. The drunk camel with the fancy gear? That's Makkachin, the sheikh's camel. He's very important to him and is his favorite pet. Christophe said that he is surprised the sheikh didn't sweep the camp already and sentence the culprit. Yuuri...” 

Yuuri swallows and urges Phichit to continue.

“Yuuri, stealing the sheikh's property, even attempting it, is treason. They… hang people for that here.” 

Yuuri notices vaguely that Phichit is trembling a little and his face is strangely pale. But at the moment he only thinks of his father and mother. And-...

“Mari. I have to speak with her immediately!” 

And just like that all the worry latches back onto Yuuri's shoulder and his limbs run on adrenaline. Just why did Phichit have to choose that particular camel? Makkachin. What kind of a name for a camel is that even? And who keeps a camel as a pet? The sheikh must be a completely crazy person. The chaotic thoughts accompany Yuuri back to the camp and a few minutes later, Mari is summoned by Phichit to their tent.

When she arrives, she sits down at the table and Phichit sits down strategically on the bed. Yuuri, who has been pacing the tent, runs to her in a heartbeat and starts to explain in a rush.

“Do our parent's know you went here?” He asks, worry spreading over his face. Mari still calm, frowns a little and pops in her mouth a bit of baklava she brought with herself. “No, they are talking about the court thing before we have lunch with the sheikh. Why? Phichit, what did you do?”

She looks accusingly at the young man and narrows her eyes, when he hastens to defend himself. Yuuri dismisses Phichit quickly and presses on the important matter.

“Mari, listen. Don't tell them about this, ok? At least not for now. Did you hear about the camel incident yesterday?” 

Apparently she didn't because she slept though the whole ruckus and their father didn't mention it to her before the breakfast. Phichit cuts Yuuri off and recaps the facts to Mari valiantly. Yuuri would admire the braveness, perhaps under different circumstances. That's why he doesn't even feel sorry for Phichit when Mari smacks his head in anger and declares he deserves to suffer a thousand years of diarrhea.

“Ok, so. You don't know if he knows. And I feel you're not telling me everything...” Mari concludes calmly after the explanation. Yuuri comes out with the truth with all the dignity he can muster.

“The sheikh has seen only me, but we were dressed as women. We stood very close to each other, but I had a veil covering my face. Mari... I think, the sheikh is convinced it was you.”

Mari covers he face with her palm and mumbles in exhaustion.

“Oh god. I don't even dress as a woman. I hate women's clothing and I hate to pluck my eyebrows.”

Yuuri goes down to his knees and is about to do a dogeza to apologize profusely. Mari and Phichit quickly jump to his side and stop him from performing it, worry written across their faces.

“Mari, I will take responsibility. I don't know why he proposed, but I won't let him harm you or anyone else. Phichit couldn't have known... I-... I am so sorry, I ruined everything. Dad is going to be in so much trouble. I will beg the sheikh to release you and if he is sensible enough, maybe we won't loose the mineral deal?”

Mari knocks softly on Yuuri's forehead and she speaks calmly with a small smile.

“Brother, don't panic. Stop, ok? Like Phichit said, we don't know for sure. And I kind of doubt the sheikh would go as far as to hang anyone because his camel got drunk. But, yeah... caution is in order. I don't think dad will survive the humiliation, it's bad enough that we have to stay longer than planned. I heard him say that he must send a letter to the government soon, to report on the mission.”

Yuuri stands up with the help of the two and blinks away the stinging tears that gathered in the corner of his eyes.

“I can't let you go on with the courtship. It's my fault and I must come forward.”

Mari stares at the plate with baklava and takes a piece, concentration resting on her furrowed eyebrows momentarily. Then she takes a bite and speaks with her a full mouth like nothing ever happened.

“You won't and I will definitely will do that.”

Both young men blink in confusion and speak at the same time. “What?” Mari stuffs her mouth full with the rest of the baklava and mumbles. When they don't understand, she chews some more before she can speak clearly. Yuuri is about to jump out of his skin in frustration.

“Well, think about it. Right now we don't know anything for sure. The only way to get ahead is to figure out what he knows and wants. Phichit was right, but I think it won't hurt to take some action in the matter. He wants to court, then I'll let him. Who says I can't fish out some information out of him while we're at it? And I don't know about you, but I really enjoy their food. God, this baklava is like heaven. If I am going to stay here longer I might as well enjoy the hospitality as much as I can.”

Yuuri is at loss for words and moves his lips like a gasping carp. “But-...”

Phichit jumps in and rubs his chin in concentration, while Mari drinks water to chase away the sticky sweetness of the desert.

“No, Yuuri, she is right. She doesn't have to do anything. He's a guy, he has to court her. She has nothing to lose. Mari, you're a genius!”

The woman stands up, brushing off the crumbs and nods in satisfaction. “I am glad you’ve finally recognize the fact. You're way too lucky Yuuri has such an intelligent and kind sister.” Then she burps, wipes her lips and is about to walk out of the tent when Yuuri quickly grabs her sleeve.

“Mari, are you sure about this? You don't have to do this.”

She pats Yuuri on his shoulder and lowers her eyelids with a beaming smile. 

“Leave it to me. Let's give that sheikh some Katsuki charm. I'll make sure he'll send us home as fast as a leopard. And don't worry, I'll talk with our parents. They never pressed me into anything and they'll support any decision I'll make. Now get some rest, stay hydrated... ok? It'll be fine.”

Once she's gone, they change clothes in silence and Georgi comes to fetch them. Yuuri knows Phichit and Mari are right and that the plan is logical. But he can't shake off the feeling that it won't be as smooth as they think. He tries hard not to mind the guilty looks Phichit is throwing his way and so he starts to ask about the astronomer, hoping Phichit will be distracted. It works like a charm, because a minute later Phichit can't seem to shut up as he gushes about the Swiss's eyelashes and no, Yuuri doesn't know if they have cows in Switzerland.

This is going to be a long day. Yuuri tenses again when he remember the blue eyes and wonders what kind of charm he was cast upon, when he feels like a hypnotized cobra following a siren's song.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you!
> 
> If you'd like there are other stories I have in progress. 
> 
> My writing blog is [here](http://makkachuuri.tumblr.com/).
> 
> Small trivia:   
> I credit Olosta on giving Phichit diarrhea.   
> I compiled a playlist for this fic - [here](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLTLVtgvLm08kQwNtpKT07gr2-24-IJ5pZ).


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On how Mari throws the famous Katsuki charm around and it has unexpected consequences. Plus some music and something else under the stars. It may involve Yuuri and a certain royal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All of the characters are adults, can drink and do other adult things you might think of.  
> This is a Sheikh AU - there is no real history involved, it's not present time, but not a fantasy world either.  
> I kept it simple, no need to think about it too much, at least I hope you won't.
> 
> This was beta-ed by fantastic [Olosta](http://archiveofourown.org/users/olosta). They worked so hard on this chapter, without them you'd not see this. Thank you so much! Please check out their work.
> 
> So, this is it... posts.
> 
> Enjoy!

The lunch goes better than Yuuri had expected. The sheikh doesn’t join them as he has to attend more pressing matters. Georgi and Mila keep them company for a while, talking about their tribe and the local customs. The Katsukis absorb with natural interest the background information about their host, Toshiya being the most eager one to ask. There is never enough information for Yuuri’s father and he is always greedy to know more, mentioning he has only minimum knowledge about the tribe and their leader – their letter exchange focused predominantly on the science and not much on the logistics. Put gently, Hiroko hesitated before the travel, knowing well enough that her husband got very excited very quickly. The planning and practical side of things, well, that was Hiroko’s forte and therefore she took it over for the most of their marriage. 

The oasis belongs to Victor but it’s not where he stays the whole year. He travels to Cairo on a regular basis and when the situation requires it. The sheikh holds various meeting with officials in the city, trades minerals and brings supplies to the residents of the oasis. 

When the sheikh resides here, his advisor – Yakov – stays in the city. Yakov arrives personally to deliver reports which cannot be sent via letters or a hawk and that way they can discuss serious matters. The Katsukis had arrived during such an occasion – Yakov comes to the camp today, their stay overlapping with his. Yuuri didn’t have the chance to see the man just yet, but he quickly gets the idea that he doesn’t want to anytime soon.

Georgi remarks with a pained expression that Yakov is very stern and keeps the tribe shaking in fright with his presence alone. He is stricter than the sheikh as well as more old-fashioned in following the traditions. The sheikh is more lax and progressive, adapting to the current trends while maintaining a delicate balance between the old and the new. Toshiya remarks that he’s truly a revolutionary leader and he wishes Japan could take inspiration from that. He makes sure to a deliver detailed reports to his superiors.  
If it weren’t for the sheikh, the trade with Japan would most likely never happen. It is said in the camp that the sheikh had tricked his adviser and invited the Katsukis without his knowledge. Yuuri wonders why a sheikh would need to trick his adviser. Is it a part of a cultural custom or something personal? Georgi is about to answer between devouring his chicken pita, but Mila stabs his ribs with her elbow and tells everyone that it's for Victor to tell them. She is quick to sooth her fiancé’s pain though. She feeds him pieces of falafel like a baby and seals his full mouth with a quick peck. He blushes and quickly forgets everything that had led to this moment. Phichit is occupied with the familiar pita triangles, nibbling on them with meekness so foreign to his personality it makes the whole display tragicomic. Yuuri is almost convinced it’s the favorite food of his friend. 

His parents exchange quiet words; Hiroko expresses concern for Phichit and pats his head in a motherly gesture and once Phichit complains, fishing for pity, she lets him rest on her lap and cards her small fingers through his hair. He is practically her second son at this point and while Yuuri is naturally withdrawn, she showers his friend with doubled attention. In moments like these Yuuri remembers he is very lucky to have met Phichit, because the Thai makes his family more complete. 

Chewing a bit of lamb chops he observes his father who pours a cup of tea for his wife, bringing it to her lips when her hands are full and giving her a kiss on the cheek. Toshiya shoves aside the small notebook on the table and pats his daughter’s thigh asking how she slept. They all know how Mari sleeps – like a dead person - so the question is not really important. Toshiya always initiates the dialog with his children with obvious questions. It could be annoying but they know he wants to ease them into a discussion without pressure. His father is a very considerate and gentle dreamer. Another question follows up the obvious answer and soon Mari and his father are talking vividly about Arabian delicacies.

Yuuri smiles, listening to their conversation while his gaze strays from them to his surroundings. It’s a lot warmer now, in fact it’s starting to get scalding hot. Even in the shade of the open tent the warm wind wraps around their bodies and faces. Almost like the fumes of the onsen if it wouldn’t be dry. Yuuri wonders how Mari is going to go about the courting and still can’t believe how they got into this chaos in the first place. He is used to getting into trouble with Phichit – his friend had dragged Yuuri away without much effort from his studies and books many times, making him experience various funny and embarrassing adventures. No, he doesn’t wonder how they had gotten to this point, but more importantly how they got here without a sling around their neck. There used to be of course always some broken post or bone, but now it seems they are frozen in time, avoiding danger without many consequences.

Yuuri thinks about the sheikh again as he watches the dunes on the far horizon and a vast sky spreading over their heads. The beautiful greenery around the lake makes Yuuri stop and ask himself how a man can nurture so much life in such an unforgiving place. The desert he saw on the way here is never ending, beautiful in its color but scary and oppressive in its size. Not a single sign of life had appeared during their travel and yet here they are in a lush place with plants, water, animals and humans in a well working society. Yes, the water is here and that makes for an easier start, but the conditions are surely hard to live in. Yuuri can tell he is spent from the heat and cold changing abruptly; nature is unforgiving. Wouldn’t they all want to live in a city among other people? What makes a royal stay here and keep his people here with himself?

Yuuri wishes to know and he wants to be told by sheikh himself. It’s a pity they can't speak with each other directly. Yes, he could ask his father to take him to his meetings and translate for him, but that doesn’t feel like the right thing for the itch Yuuri has. He craves to ask these questions and many more personally and alone in the man’s presence. The sheikh is a fascinating enigma and Yuuri can’t help himself but wanting to be closer. But he is stuck here in this strange secret arrangement with his sister and sessile in his actions, letting Mari and his father move like figures across the board of a chess game.

Yuuri notices two men appearing in the entrance of the big blue tent and sees them heading towards the horses. It’s the sheikh and his adviser.  
“Yakov!” Georgi throws the piece of a spiced chicken on the copper plate, grabs it, wipes his mouth in a rush and kisses Mila on her cheek with a loud smack. They are quick to their feet and scramble away before the men get closer to the Katsukis.  
“Hey, are you escaping? Yuuri, they are escaping! Haha, can you believe that? Hey! Where are you going? Cowards, come back!” Phichit is up from Hiroko’s lap in an instant like a hamster in alarm. He is frightened, but the glimmer in his eyes tells he’s sensing drama and something they haven’t been told. If there is something Phichit wasn’t told, he is dead set on figuring it out. Secrets and Phichit are like magnets pulling at each other. God help the person who stands between the two. Yuuri is worried the moment he sees his friend’s wide smile and a shining challenge in his eyes.  
“Dearie, don’t tease our hosts. It’s not nice. You should be grateful for their hospitality.” Hiroko is the only one who is not intimidated by Phichit’s interest. She knows about Phichit just as much as his own mother. She saw his every naked nook and cranny, the tears and the snot when she took care of him while he was sick. And she wore the same smile as the one she wears now. It makes Phichit curl into himself instinctively without any resistance like a plant going to sleep once moon graces the sky. Yuuri’s mother is powerful. The Katsuki’s finish chewing the last bite and cut off their conversation, waiting for the men to approach them.  
The adviser Yakov, an older man with stern features and a funny large hat, nods his head slightly in greeting and lets the sheikh introduce him to the company. His appearance is rather odd, because his stout body is dressed in a loose lavender shirt, with colorful striped sash wrapped around his growing belly. He certainly isn't fat, but the combination with the loose pants makes him look very corpulent and amusing. His face is permanently wrinkled, Yuuri is not sure if he can smile at all. The tiny pig-like eyes pin the viewer in the place and suddenly the young man instinctively knows why Georgi and Mila had ran away like children about to be scolded. Most likely they didn’t do anything bad, but it looks like a good idea to escape the watchful gaze of the man, unless you want to feel like a rabbit close to a heart-attack, anticipating the wolf’s deadly snap. He seems to judge everything you do, even the way you breathe. Yuuri gulps in a reflex, once the adviser pins his eyes on him during the introduction. He is so stressed he forgets to cast down his eyes as they leave.  
It’s a blessing in disguise, because the sheikh connects his piercing eyes with Yuuri’s mid turn and the moment lasts longer than it’s polite. Yuuri’s mind doesn’t even cross the fact that he had let his glasses folded beside his food plate and that the sheikh can see his eyes on full display. No, he doesn’t think of anything, he is completely lost in the moment. Well, that’s also not entirely true, because he does thinks of something. What the eyes see the heart desires, after all.  
The men approach the horses and the sheikh caresses the long muscular neck and snout of one, sending vague looks towards the Katsukis and Yuuri can’t help but watch the Sheikh's hands, imagining how they would feel on his own body. He thinks it’s a real shame they don’t speak the same language and can’t converse alone.

The day passes quickly and the evening catches Yuuri sooner than he wishes for. The dreaded first official meeting with the sheikh – the courting initiation. Just as Mari had promised, she made sure their parents understood that she not only agrees to the courtship but even welcomes it. So when Yuuri and Toshiya come to pick her up Yuuri should feel calm. Except he does feel anything but calm.

The moment he hears his mother excuse herself from the social obligation without a hint of worry, he knows he must worry above anything else. His parents never put up a fight with Mari once she sets her mind on something. But Hiroko, the ever caring and protective mother, would never miss a chance to accompany her daughter during something like a social mating dance. Yuuri really, really doesn't like it. They know Mari doesn't want to marry, yet they don't question her actions when she judges herself in the large mirror, a first expensive first gift from Victor, and tugs here and there on her wild mane. The effort to make her hairstyle look better is futile. It looks so alien to see his sister getting ready and checking herself out. Mari follows simple rules when it comes to appearance – if it’s dirty wash it and if it’s too long shorten it. That means the upkeep of her body is limited to maintaining it clean, cutting her hair and nails. That’s it, anything else is an excess, and a waste of time and effort. 

She's not trying to look better. It's very clear to Yuuri she's attempting the exact opposite. So when his dad sways on his heels with hands joined behind his back waiting while she's getting ready and doesn't even blink as his sister nods in satisfaction at herself and walks out of the tent like a determined taxman, Yuuri cringes. A single striped veil is hanging over her shoulders to maintain some decorum; her casual outfit consisting of a simple jinbei and cotton pants don’t even work in this look. 

But when his sister, the famous calculative Mari, winks at him and narrows her eyes like a sneaky puma in the bushes, Yuuri wants to run like a rhino, smash his head against the first palm tree wand and smack himself unconscious with a coconut. Unfortunately he can't do anything of that sort so he walks to the Sheikh's tent with his hair standing on his neck, sweating more than necessary and wishing the walk wouldn't be over so soon. He'd gladly make a trip through the whole desert if it put things of. He'd eat thousand figs and drink a barrel of Georgi's vodka just to avoid the meeting.

Because Mari is going to push the sheikh around and she's going to push him good. And Yuuri isn't going to be able to do anything about it, just watch. It's going to be an absolute nightmare and he's going to cry himself to sleep. As he knows Mari and her determination, the sheikh will beat him to the punch in the crying competition. Yuuri wishes sincerely the sheikh won't need to enter it.

The inside of the tent looks the same, with one difference. There is very little food on the small table, which is rather odd. Does the Sheikh only want to talk? Wouldn’t you want to impress the guests when courting your potential bride? The floor is strewn with cushions and they enjoy reclining into them. Well, the Katsuki men can enjoy the soft pillows in a sense – they both sit in seiza, their legs relish the sensation the most. Mari is an entirely different story, she sprawls her body languidly like a true courtesan, not even waiting for the sheikh’s welcoming gesture. He might seems to be taken aback, but perhaps it’s just Yuuri’s imagination, since the man has a full smile on his face again and his body gives off sparking energy. His father doesn’t say anything but arches an eyebrow, surprised by the casual behavior of his daughter. Some pleasantries follow, the two men speaking a little and Yuuri grows more nervous by each minute. It’s all rather odd. The sheikh doesn’t look towards Mari’s way but gives his attention to Toshiya. Mari strokes her index finger over her lips and watches the exchange between the two with great interest. She is plotting something. Yuuri, sitting behind his father, is about to slide towards her and make a last attempt at stopping this theater. Yet Mari is quicker and her strong, playful voice rings under the roof of the colored tent like a dinner bell. The act is on and Yuuri can’t join the stage.

“Father! Won’t you let me speak with Shisha-san? You keep him all to yourself, how am I supposed to get to know him?” She hugs her knee and pushes ahead, to Yuuri's great despair, far from his side. Her boldness surprises all present and it takes them a moment to realize she butchered the name of the royal’s function. Yuuri knows she did it on purpose – his sister is not stupid; that makes the potential follow up of the situation all the more frightening. Suddenly the prospect of being hanged for wasting and trying to steal a camel doesn’t sound so harsh. His sister with her determined involvement can attract a far more severe punishment. And all she needs to do is open her mouth.

“Shisha-san?” Toshiya is repeating dumbfounded like a parrot. She doesn’t let on whether she is nervous from all the eyes locked on her, she presses on in her act.

“Ah, well, him I guess? Shake-san, Shaky-san? How do you pronounce it?” Yuuri can’t believe she’s actually doing this, batting her eyelashes in feigned coyness. But as he gasps for air in disbelief at her shocking behavior, the sheikh beats her to the punch. It’s him who speaks next and his melodic voice rattles the Russian syllables with eagerness and excitement. Yuuri recognizes the word “shisha” and his father is quick to explain to Mari that the sheikh asks if she wants to try the mysterious shisha. Toshiya doesn’t have the chance to say more, nor has Mari the time to react, because the host turns briskly to the side and calls for an attendant to bring in the thing. 

Two guards arrive, place a strange decorative vase-like object on the ground and hold out a large wooden box. The sheikh waves his hand, beckoning them closer, and the guard with the box lifts the lid, exposing many compartments with clumps inside. They are round shaped and dark, resembling... cakes? The Katsukis look with awe, not sure what to make out of the items. Toshiya hasn’t heard of a custom where you bring a vase and ugly looking candy to your guests. Mari doesn’t disappoint, but delivers as expected.

“That’s some really unappetizingly looking dessert. But one shall not look down upon something for free, ne?” She picks one at random, smells it and is about to bite it, when the sheikh’s voice halts her in her action. 

“Ah!!! Niet!”

Yuuri startles and watches in awe how the man tries not to laugh, covering his lips with his palm, and a slight blush adorning his cheeks. He is amused! He gestures hastily with hands shaking his head as words fail him and his shoulders tremble from suppressed laughter. Then he seems to contain himself enough to say one word and blow out air in an exaggerated manner, lifting his chin high. 

“Ananas.”

Toshiya suddenly understands and quickly explains to his daughter with a smile in his face. He let himself be infected by their host’s genuine outburst. “Mari, it’s not a cake. I think it’s a pineapple flavored tobacco.”  
She looks at the sheikh with unfeigned amazement and he nods in agreement, mouthing simple words with an awkward pronunciation.

“Tabak. Shisha.” He points at the strange vase, takes a piece of coal from the nearby bowl and stretches out his hand to Mari with his palm open, blue eyes warm and asking. “Ananas?” 

“Yeah! I want to try!” She gives him the tobacco cake and they all watch in interest as he banters preparing the shisha. Yuuri is interested to see how it works and comes closer, peaking over his father’s shoulder, forgetting for a moment he was so worked up earlier. The tension between his family and the sheikh was released and an amicable atmosphere is lingering around them, relaxing their limbs and conjuring light smiles on their faces. He starts to see the appeal of the mindset that you should try to become friends first with a business partner. 

While his family observes the preparation of the tobacco for the shisha, Yuuri’s is attracted to the sheikh’s lips, who leads the coal toward them and blows air on it. His mouth is pursed, the little opening forms a passage for his breath to pass through. A very fascinating image. The glowing coal illuminates his face and Yuuri can see it cast a warm orange light, making the sheikh's features even more alluring, his lips shining like lychee flesh and eyes flickering like elusive fireflies. Yuuri doesn’t hear the excited musings of his father about how the shisha works and he also misses Mari's eagerness to try out smoking for the first time. Because the sheikh’s eyes land on him, stopping him mid lean and he holds his breath. He can only swallow as the intensive gaze rests on him with a heavy weight. It’s almost like they are alone in the moment, trapped in the tent in each other’s sole company. Once again he is reminded strongly that the sheikh is a man, very real and very aware of him.

The sheikh’s eyes are incredibly captivating and Yuuri can’t for his life tear away from them; he continues to be tied to them with invisible ropes of nonverbal promises and questions. It’s so very strange, they don’t speak to each other, yet they do and it feels almost like a dialog. Yuuri wants to ask and answer at the same time, and he has the feeling the man wants the same, because he sees a thrilling panoply of emotions on the sheikh’s face. Intent, surprise, confusion and hesitation? The questions tremble on his tongue and Yuuri almost blurts out words the sheikh would not understand, in a futile attempt to communicate. The drive catches Yuuri off guard. The sheikh tears away from him with hesitation, an embarrassed flush on his face as if he got caught at not paying attention when he should have. He demonstrates to Mari with gestures how to smoke and watches as she takes the hose and drags from the mouthpiece. The moment is lost and Yuuri works quickly on gathering his composure, reminding himself he is here for a reason that is very important, even if he can’t remember why at the moment. It’s fine, he just has to get through the evening.

He spends the rest of it quietly observing as his father guides them through a joyful conversation. He doesn’t know what the sheikh talked about when they arrived but he understand a little now – they speak about the flavored tobacco. Surprisingly the sheikh doesn’t smoke, despite preparing the shisha for Mari with expertise. It’s a talk about nothing and everything at the same time because a bond is being formed between them and Yuuri can almost see it like an invisible thread knitting a net. He gets lost in the mood, thinking about long summer evenings back at home. The family joined around a watermelon and celebrating his father’s monthly paycheck from the government, and the sheikh as their guest. 

Wait. What?

Yuuri grabs his thigh, startled by the thought. He thinks of the sheikh not as of a guest, but as part of his family in a private, familiar moment. Dressed casually in a jinbei, laughing with them and enjoying his mother’s dango. The sheikh laughs at Mari’s sarcasm and indulges Toshiya’s excitement about the new lexicon he had received from faraway France. All this imagery isn’t frightening, how could it be? No, it’s not that. It’s the last image in his mind, where he sees the sheikh without his ghutrah, silver hair on his head and a bright smile on his delighted face as he turns to Yuuri and stretches his hand in invitation. He’s calling his name in a familiar tone, too private even for his family’s presence and Yuuri can almost hear it. 

“Yuuri.”

Where did this come from? And what the hell is it supposed to mean? Maybe he is tired and the heat of the day is conjuring a mirage in his vision. He rubs his eyes with his fingers, lifting his glasses in the process. Mari notices it, like she always does and yawns suddenly in an exaggerated manner, alerting the others with the grace of an elephant in porcelain. The game is on and clear – the match is forfeited for tonight and there will be a continuation on a next meeting. She is tired, it’s late and they will retire for the night. The sheikh has no other choice than to thank them for their company and not to detain them from their sleep.

At the last moment Mari breaks her pretense and requests without a hint of shame that she keep the shisha. She boldly offers a deal – the sheikh takes the mirror back in exchange for the shisha, the box of the tobacco cakes on top. The man doesn’t even blink when Toshiya translates for him quickly with a chuckle.  
“Of course, he insists. But he has one condition. He wants you to call him shisha-san in private.”

If Yuuri didn’t know better, he’d be fooled by the man’s serious expression. But Mari’s surprised face breaks with laughter. She puffs out the fruity smelling smoke and offers him her hand. Again he doesn’t hesitate, grabs it and they share a hearty handshake. Toshiya hides his smile behind his fist and leave the tent with the sheikh bowing his head deeply in respect.

Yuuri is haunted by the alluring domestic memory and realizes, watching his sister’s and father’s genuine satisfied faces, that the sheikh is a quite impressive and honest man. He's met his sister where she is.

When Yuuri returns to the turquoise tent, instead of his friend he finds a hastily written note lying on the bed-sheets. It's sprinkled with drawn cow heads and a horny looking hamster. Phichit isn't a good artist, but his drawings are convincing enough to get the idea across. Beside them is a scribble saying that Phichit went out, apparently for… milking. Yuuri isn't sure what it means or if he even wants to know. Ever since his friend had met the charming Swiss, Yuuri is terrified of figuring out what else will Phichit do to, acting upon his infatuation when he's not limited by diarrhea. Phichit can be very frightening when he's eager. Yuuri doesn't call him Eager-dono for nothing. 

Well, this at least spares him the obligatory interrogation, for which he's grateful. He sighs; the tension in his shoulders had left but his muscles cry from the strain. Even if he enjoyed himself near the end of the evening he was still tight and restless. Once he is in such a state Yuuri knows he has to try with great effort to relax before going to sleep, otherwise he'll be turning in bed the whole night. With his friend gone he can't talk through his worries so the only thing left is doing something physical. The usual workout wouldn't be a good idea in this kind of heat. The sun's just slipped behind the horizon so it is still hot and sweat drops tickle his spine, sliding between his buttocks and his temples are drenched as well. Yuuri reaches for a towel haphazardly tossed on the nearby chair but stops considering to wipe himself with it. He smiles and leaves the tent, joy making him almost skip with eagerness.

The oasis starts to dip into the darkness just like a magic spell in a story. Torches are being lit by the guards, the tents light up with lamps and chatter grows muted as people retreat to their beds and hide in the sheets to have a reflective evening talk. The day is not yet gone, but the responsibilities are forgotten and the tribe socializes with intimate ease. As Yuuri passes the last tents and reaches the lake's shore he hears music. Playful yet gentle plucking on a string instrument reminding him of home. It comes from somewhere from the tents. He can't place it at first but it does sound a bit like a koto. The sound however is much less complex, which means the amount of strings is lower than that of the Japanese instrument. His feet sink to the still warm sand and the leaves of the bushes brush against his body as he walks further to the private part of the lake. The clouds on the sky are like big woolly sheep feeding on grass, moving ahead lazily in no rush to uncover the moon, bathing everything in twilight. Yuuri is so immersed in the melody he doesn't get startled when the indigo steps aside, uncovering the white globe on the sky spilling milk over the shore and lake.

It reveals a lone figure standing in the shallow waters and Yuuri has to clutch his yukata to simply hold onto something, because the sight is beyond anything he's ever seen. The man is almost naked, shedding his robe from his lithe body. He's letting it slip down over his hips. It would fall further if Yuuri didn't yell out in shock.\

The man jolts and turns to Yuuri, tensing at first. And oh god, Yuuri has the worst luck because it's none other than the sheikh himself. He's letting his eyes dart over his body despite the initial intent to look away. He can't help but admire the man finally being able to see his hair. It's short and falls over one of his eyes shaped in an elegant fringe. Somehow it makes him look more mysterious than when he's wearing a head cover and has no hair in the way.

Yet even with only one eye visible, Yuuri feels the both of them pierce through his whole body with an intense focus and he has to catch his constricted breath. He hastily apologizes in the first language that comes to his mind, wincing as soon as the words come out. 

"Sorry, sorry! I'm so sorry!" Yuuri shouts in English.

Curse Phichit and suggesting to learn English – a language which the rest of his family don't understand, just so they could keep jokes private.

The sheikh relaxes visibly recognizing Yuuri, his tense body grows pliant like an epicurean puma and...

"English?" His voice, not too different than when he speaks Russian or Arabic, suddenly makes sense to poor Yuuri, so that he forgets himself and almost goes to his knees in gratitude. They can communicate!

"Yes?" He can still hardly believe the development of the situation. Is this happening? It’s happening.

"That's wonderful! Care to join me?" The sheikh throws the cloak on the shore and waves his hand towards the lake as if he didn't just present his bare body to Yuuri without a hint of shame.

Yuuri gasps, opening and closing his mouth like a carp on a deck of a ship. He mutters a curse in Japanese and because the sheikh looks on in confusion he quickly nods and does his best to speak English. It seems he's capable of only short sentences at the moment and the sheikh is smirking in amusement, which isn't supposed to make Yuuri feel insulted but it makes him embarrassed all the same. "Yes, yes!"

Oh god. Yuuri wants to cry, his hands tangle in his yukata and he can't seem to figure out how to unwrap his obi despite doing it for years. His hands should know how to undress practically on memory. What is wrong with him? At least he's able to look away and congratulate himself that he doesn't stare at the sheikh's pale cobra dangling between his legs. If the Sheikh didn't think so before, by now he must be convinced by Yuuri's actions that Japanese are either incredibly clumsy or prude people. In Yuuri's case probably both.

What the hell! They are both men, they bath or swim together. It's not like the Sheikh owns the lake! Ugh. Well, he does, but Yuuri wasn't told they can't touch the water, and the guards were only at the well. But it's true he doesn't know about many of their customs so he might have made some misstep already just by bathing in the lake without permission the first time. But the Sheikh wouldn't offer him to join his company if Yuuri had transgressed some local convention. And he wouldn't smile at him in encouragement while Yuuri is throwing him worried glances, checking if the man is sure about his invitation. Right?

The clothes are off, just his fundoshi stays on as a last aid to his decency. He can't bring himself to discard it and hopes the sheikh won't read too much into it. 

It helps that they are submerged in the water and the Sheikh's body not visible now is not distracting Yuuri. He gathers the courage to initiate a conversation.

"Thank you for hosting us here in your home. I hope we are not a big burden."

They swim slowly, hands parting the water in no haste. It's a bit like a walk, a chance to engage in a harmless conversation. The sheikh turns on his back and throws a cunning smile towards Yuuri.

"It's not a burden. I asked you to stay longer. Otherwise I couldn’t court your sister."

Ah. The man is straight to the point. After all the turmoil Yuuri decides to be upfront as well. 

"That came rather unexpectedly, yes."

"Asking you to stay, or...?" He asks, letting the sentence trail out of his mouth like water from his fingers. Is he playing with Yuuri?

"Both. But the latter was probably the most surprising." He admits as he makes a few strokes to stay in place.

"Why? Don't your people court the object of their desire?" The playful twist to his lips leaves Yuuri no room for doubt anymore. He's being teased. So he slips on the polite stiff smile to keep things amicable. The water around his limbs is a comforting embrace making him feel safe and confident. He’s glad that they have this discussion here and not on the shore. Out there in the open you have to pay so much attention to your hands and posture. Here it’s a lot easier to keep the nonverbal signals hidden from sight.

"Yes, we do. But not in such an unexpected manner? Not after seeing a person once and proposing on the spot."

His companion comes a little closer and Yuuri can see now he is all serious, asking honestly.

"Have you ever seen someone and the moment you looked into their eyes you knew you had to pursue them? Have you ever had the feeling like you have to know more about them, like you would do things beyond your capabilities and would be willing to do almost anything to be on the same stage with them?"

There is a strange glint in his eyes and Yuuri is a fish caught in a net, lingering nervousness whispering intrusive thoughts into his ears, that perhaps the sheikh knows and means more than he says. 

Yuuri doesn't know what to answer. He did and didn't. He can't exactly confess he had a close to mystical meeting with the man who’s in front of him, taking a swim. And he isn't sure if what the sheikh said applies to Yuuri's feelings – does he feel like he wants to pursue the sheikh? Does he want to be close to him at any cost? The domestic image from before invades his thoughts again, perhaps offering itself as a cue to answer the man’s question. The royal sees his turmoil and his features grow kinder. Something soft caresses Yuuri inside and he's lunging from it like from the ground, the only push he needs to move forward.

"Did my sister leave such an impression on you? She is rather... particular."

The sheikh stops and casts him a hesitant glance but then continues.

“There was something in her eyes I saw and… I wanted to have the chance to get to know her better. She is nothing like I expected her to be. I’ve never met a woman like her before. She is fascinating. Honest, open and up front. I had such a good conversation with her despite not speaking the same language. I enjoyed myself a lot. She’d was the first to call me that kind of nickname and to exchange an expensive mirror for a simple shisha.” 

His speech is calm and quiet as he directs it to the sky, which is sprinkled with stars like with powdered sugar – perhaps even with the dark shimmering sand desert if you use your imagination. The melody of the sheikh’s voice is lulling and pulls Yuuri's gaze to the stars. Enjoying the moment, he lays flat on his back like his companion and then once there is a quiet pause their eyes meet. Yuuri is once again lost in the turquoise color, mesmerized by the man who looks so tangible and pristine in his simplicity.

“Would you like to call me shisha-san as well?”

The question startles him and Yuuri sinks below the surface in a heartbeat. Fooled again; that man is going to be his nightmare. Strong arms wraps around his back and hook under his armpits and just like that he’s up again, spitting out water and taking a deep breath. The man is close, too close and Yuuri feels like a newborn baby, vulnerable, all wet and shivering. The sheikh's eyes trail over Yuuri’s face, maybe looking for something? Then he seems to make up his mind and breaks the moment with laughter, releasing him from his hold. 

“Perhaps that is too familiar and you’d like to leave that privilege to your sister?”

Yuuri wipes his face and makes a few strokes towards the shore, following the royal. He is a little rough after few coughs but he tries to speak nonetheless.

“I’m not sure what would be appropriate, to be honest.”

The sheikh walks out of the water taking his robe and wrapping himself in it, while Yuuri tries his best not to ogle his ass, presented to Yuuri as he bends for his clothes. Yuuri sends a quick prayer to the heavens with hope that the man doesn’t notice his heavy blush. He doesn’t, because he’s offering Yuuri his yukata, just like you would hold a cloak for a lady. So strange this man, so familiar and not abashed at all. It must be how people here act around each other. And so the self-pacified Yuuri turns his back to the sheikh and slips his hands into the sleeves like an obedient child. But moment later he feels anything but a child, because the man’s voice tickles his ear and send low vibrations down his spine to accompany the trickling water droplets delivering heat to places which ache miraculously often since his arrival to Egypt.

“Victor it is then, da?” It is just a simple name, really. It’s nothing but a word. But despite all that Yuuri mumbles “Victor-san” and keeps his eyes away from Victor all the way back as they walk to the camp and doesn’t engage in his jovial chatter. He manages short answers only, but his company doesn’t seem to mind. Victor looks very happy for some reason and Yuuri can’t help but wonder what made him feel like that.

If it’s his sister he should be happy for her. Yes, he should. The swim didn’t help like he had hoped for because Yuuri is twisting and turning in his bed even after Phichit returns from his outing and tries to slip into the cowers in a bad attempt not to make any sound. When his friend presses against his back and wraps his hands around his waist in sleep, Yuuri still has trouble to shake off that unpleasant pang. He keeps telling himself the whole night that it’s definitely not jealousy he keeps feeling when he thinks about Mari laughing with Victor.

She is nothing like Victor expected her to be. Well, of course she is not what he expected. It’s Mari. His sister, the sardonic mackerel. The one he saw was Yuuri. He groans into the pillow and tries hard to escape the troubling thoughts. Phichit holds on tighter onto him and mumbles in his sleep “Chris…umh.”

Great. His friend is dreaming of the charming Swiss, clutching Yuuri as a substitute and Yuuri can’t shake off Victor speaking about his first meeting. He runs away as best he can, but he seem to return to the same place and then has to face it. There is no finish line in this race, it's a competition against himself. Yuuri has to battle a lot, but since he'd arrived here, to this foreign land, and met Victor, he has to dispute his feelings more than he did his whole life.

He squeezes his friend’s hand and slips into a restless sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you!
> 
> The credit for the pale cobra goes to Lucy! Bless!
> 
> If you'd like there are other stories I have in progress. 
> 
> My writing blog is [here](http://makkachuuri.tumblr.com/).
> 
> Small trivia:  
> As a part of writing meme on tumblr I wrote the POV of Makkachin when Phichit comes to give him vodka... [here.](https://makkachuuri.tumblr.com/post/162754237831/pov)  
> I compiled a playlist for this fic - [here](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLTLVtgvLm08kQwNtpKT07gr2-24-IJ5pZ).

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you!
> 
> If you'd like there are other stories I have in progress.
> 
>  
> 
> Small trivia: The inspiration for the whole story came from my favorite movie Conan the Barbarian and this particular [scene](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vcZt8ejQw_8).


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